Sweat is so revealing, isn’t it. It can be the body showing its fear, its anxieties, its arousal. But we never make sweat into a topic, so far as I know, philosophically. Unlike shit or urine, art hasn’t made it into a material either. Only Grace Jones did, and in her memoirs I’ll Never Write My Memoirs she writes about it: “I was, abstractly, sweating on the front cover of Living My Life, either because I had been in a fight after some kind of argument - there is a plaster over my eyebrow, and I look like I’ve just delivered a killer blow - or because I had just had sex with someone, somewhere. Or perhaps I was thinking about the world around me, and what was happening after all those parties, and all that togetherness. The sweat of the 1980s, of anxiety and threat, was very different from the no-holds-barred 1970s disco sweat.” It made me think, how do we sweat in the 2010s?